As I See It: A little tom-foolery never hurt anyone

Here I sit at the computer amidst rumbling thunder and flickering lights. That’s asking for trouble. I could lose everything I write if the power goes off. Word from the techs is always “Save! Save! Save!” I do that anyway, just to be cautious, since the same inspiration would never come if a story one has sweated out is lost.

By Harriett Gustason

Journal Standard

By Harriett Gustason

Posted Apr. 20, 2013 at 12:01 AM
Updated Apr 20, 2013 at 7:19 PM

By Harriett Gustason

Posted Apr. 20, 2013 at 12:01 AM
Updated Apr 20, 2013 at 7:19 PM

Here I sit at the computer amidst rumbling thunder and flickering lights. That’s asking for trouble. I could lose everything I write if the power goes off. Word from the techs is always “Save! Save! Save!” I do that anyway, just to be cautious, since the same inspiration would never come if a story one has sweated out is lost.

I also print them out as I go along , except right now my very high-tech printer won’t print for me. Frankly, I felt like kicking it, that is if I could get my foot up there. I just spent big bucks putting five new ink jets in it. The printer quits if one of the cartridges goes dry. If the sales person had told me that when I bought it, I wouldn’t have. I seldom use the colored ink and usually the only things I print out are my stories. It would be much easier to type it back in from the printed copy than trying to compose it again.

Like I’ve said before, it is much easier to write on a computer than a typewriter ever was … BUT, when they get stubborn it’s very frustrating and time-consuming. If I had it to do over again, I’d buy the simplest printer there is, as there is less chance of something going wrong. When you need it you want the blankety-blank thing to work. Anyway …

A Few Moments of Frivolity

You’ll never guess what I did last Saturday morning. It was fun, but I hope I didn’t make too big a fool of myself.

Olga, yes Olga Carlile, THE Olga you all know, and I, were asked to be the “celebrity guests” at a fund-raising walk-a-thon at Oakley Courts, the assisted-living home just off of Kiwanis Drive in Freeport. Neither Olga or I are what you call “walkers,” but that didn’t matter, they just wanted us there to help make things a little livelier I guess.

Anyway, we were there in good spirits a little after 9 a.m. that Saturday. We sat and visited with various residents for a while, but decided we ought to move around a bit and do some “mixing.” I went over to the table where residents have a table to work on bright-colored, giant jigsaw puzzles and talked with Ronny, friend of former Lunch Bunch member, the late Betty Stebbins. Betty had been a sort of hostess for Olga and me at this event in previous years and always worked on the puzzles. Her friend Ronny always worked on the puzzles too, along with others. It was nice to talk with him. Several of the completed puzzles have been glazed and framed and hung on the walls.

You should see the one they’re working on now. Amazing! Anyway, I was glad I went over to talk to Ronny and pay my respects. He is such a nice fellow. He and Betty also worked on the flower beds outside, helping plant and weed them. Betty loved doing that. She always did a lot of that.

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Well, Olga and I chatted with a number of the residents. It was enjoyable. Adding to that was the entertainment going on throughout the time the residents were chalking up laps around the halls for the fund-raising project. Vocal music was being provided by a gentleman from Rockford. He played his own guitar accompaniment and had a really good voice. He sang the songs which we of the “mature” age sang and danced to throughout the years. He was great. We couldn’t help singing along with him adding a bit of swaying with the upper torso especially with those 1940, ‘50 and ’60 tunes.

Hit by an Impulse

Well, I sat there enjoying him when this wild impulse hit me. I wanted to take that mike and sing something. When he began “You Are My Sunshine,” I don’t know what got into me, but I could resist no longer. I walked out to him and asked him for the mike. He readily handed it to me and began playing a verse of the song named above. I belted out that verse with a boldness I didn’t know I possessed. At the conclusion, I told the audience of elders, “I have always wanted to do that.” They laughed and I handed the mike back to the real entertainer and returned to my group. But that is not the end of the story.

The next day, Sunday after church, now get this, my folly caught up with me. Dee, Ruth and I of the Lunch Bunch were eating our lunch at Prime Table restaurant, and a gentleman walks up with a twinkle in his eye. He said something about my performance at Oakley Courts.

“Oh no, you were there?” I asked. We chuckled, and I had to explain to Ruth and Dee what I had done. They laughed too. Then a lady, also with a bit of mischief in her eye and who had been out there on Saturday, came by sharing a couple light remarks regarding my performance. Again, I just took it in stride responding in the light mood intended. Oh my goodness! How fast word travels. One can’t get by with anything anymore. Well, I asked for it.

But, when all was said and done, it was pretty hilarious. So help me, as is my confirmed lifestyle, I was stone-cold sober, just acted on impulse, a whim. I have to say, just to be honest, I haven’t had any bids for gigs yet. But I do want you to know, in younger years I sang a mean alto -- in high school vocal groups and in the choirs of the churches where I have belonged. But, folks, them days are gone forever.

And I must say, that is one of the few good things about getting old. You lose some of your lifelong inhibitions. After all, who cares? What have we got to lose, our reputations? And it really can be fun.

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Harriett Gustason is a writer for The Journal-Standard. She can be reached at 815-235-3855 or hg3855@comcast.net.